Recent Posts

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Greetings Traveler / Re: A Quick Hello
« Last post by Strolen on March 26, 2017, 12:38:41 PM »
Welcome! I was hoping you could help clear some restless spirits from the east wine cellar. They seem to have opened some kind of portal.  Along with your typical temporal creatures it seems to attrack giant centipedes. Place is becoming a mess.

Greetings Traveler / Re: Greetings, friends! I'm PAMwhale, but you can call me Pam.
« Last post by Strolen on March 26, 2017, 12:36:54 PM »
Hopefully the itch doesn't turn into a rash. I think we have some ointment somewhere if it does. Once you start scratching, hopefully you can't stop.

Congratulations to your rise above the Barbarian Horde. I am glad you signed up!!
Freeform Roleplaying / Re: The Last Tomorrow, or, Tales of Great Moltholom
« Last post by Murometz on March 25, 2017, 02:47:39 PM »
Icky the Awful and Thang the Necrope. Love it!!

Note: We will pay homage to Vance (obviously), but originalize (is that a word? nope.) the game a bit. So won't be literally stealing stuff from the books, but rather re-creating the dying earth genre to suit our own vile purposes (whatever those may be).

Freeform Roleplaying / Re: The Last Tomorrow, or, Tales of Great Moltholom
« Last post by Scrasamax on March 25, 2017, 11:44:20 AM »
To the tribesmen of the Lastland, we are Belphegor, the lord of the Dead.
To the magi of Great Moltholom, we are Thangirion Zomiel, whose visage causes Gods to turn away
To Tiphareth of Psor, we are called Husband.

Casual - Dark gray chasuble under a black fanon marked with symbols representing unholy constellations and the signs of elder beasts. This is all under a light devouring cappa magna (or great cloak)

Formal - The Panoply of Zomiel, a full suit of orichalum armor including a head piece that is heavily ornamented and crenellated. The armor is layered with protective magics, studded with magic jewels, and produces it's own ghastly light. Also has the Staff of Zomiel, a powerful necromancer's tool imbued with ancient and hoary magics.

Belphegor Thangirion Zomiel is ancient and cadaverous, with chalky white flesh that is frequently brittle and dry to the touch. Despite his appearance, he still contains a great deal of physical strength. He has no hair, and seldom blinks, with deep set dark eyes that give his face a skeletal appearance.


Thang's magic flows from two major sources, necromancy and the abomination magics of the elder gods, which flows in disturbing patterns, with emphasis on corruption, buffing others, summoning monsters, raising the dead, and controlling others through fear and displays of power.

(mixture of Lovecraft monsters, hardcore necromancy, and entropy/corruption)


The Graveyard of Dragons - Thangirion's crypt/stasis chamber was buried deep under a place known as the Graveyard of Dragons, where many dragons and other great beasts went to die. When he arose in the Last Age, his fortress rose from the dead earth, lifting rotting flesh and bone piles into the sky, decorating itself with their corpses.

One dragon was not completely dead, and was skewered by the central tower, Thangirion used his magic to preserve the dragon's leaving it broken and bound to the stone, but still hateful and alive enough to vomit fire and bile on those who tarry to close to the Graveyard Fortress.


Thangirion was formerly married to a beautiful woman, and her death lead him to search out the secrets of immortality. He found them, but it was too late to bring her back from the dead, so he created the Graveyard Fortress as a permanent mausoleum for the both of them. He has since been disturbed and woken, leaving him to see the the end results of his work is his own wretched immortality, and his beloved reduced to crumbling bone. He is very old, and his power diminished by the slow death of the world. He is a moral quandary, does he hasten the end of that world to end his own suffering, or does he try to do what she would have wanted, and been a force of goodness.

Thangirion is Chaotic Neutral, with deliberate effort to be either lawful, or good, leaving him wandering between lawful evil and chaotic good, with a melancholy neutral being the normal resting state.

Thangirion also speaks to himself in a plural form, as he is a bit cracked, and might have a few stolen souls and minds buried inside of his own. He manifests Zomiel as good, Thangirion as chaotic neutral, and Belphegor as pure evil.
Welcome aboard!

Welcome Pam, hope you share your stuff with us
I've been worldbuilding for about several years now though my main world has only been in the works for 4 years now. My genres have been fantasy, supers, and pokemon (seperately) with my fantasy world being the primary focus.

I'd like to take my creations and at some point translate those into fun rpg campaigns and short stories but I also have a big dream of using my creations to tell my (currently nonexistant) children epic tales before bedtime.

Anywho, wanted to check in and say hello to everyone. I've been a lurker on Strolen for a few years but today I had just gotten an itch to actual registering.

Keep it fun! :thumbup:
Freeform Roleplaying / Re: The Last Tomorrow, or, Tales of Great Moltholom
« Last post by Scrasamax on March 24, 2017, 07:03:28 PM »
Freeform Roleplaying / The Last Tomorrow, or, Tales of Great Moltholom
« Last post by Murometz on March 24, 2017, 06:43:27 PM »
A world so old its time is running out...

The only continent (land mass) left, which has not been buried beneath the earth, nor swallowed by waters, nor burned by fire, nor torn apart by winds.

Great Moltholom
A city the size of a country, ruled by odious sorcerers and myopic wizards from their twisted towers. The myriad enchantments and spell runes etched all along the great walls, protect the city from the ravaging abominations outside it. But they too, like everything else, wane in power.

One of the few remaining cities of Lastland where humans still dwell. Women outnumber the men by a ratio of fifty to one here. And most of the men are sterile.

Throbbing Bogs
What used to be a sizable landmass of varied terrain, is now a vast, horror-filled, fetid bog of monstrosities and many dangers besides.

A unimaginably vast wasteland where nothing grows, no birds fly, and where almost no one or nothing dwells.

Old Place
One of the few cities remaining, aside from Great Moltholom, where lepers, beggars, and broken-men cling to the beyond-ancient stones, and pray to queer gods for salvation.

Sleeping Sea
Once a great ocean, now a vast "puddle", which is rarely more than waist deep on a man.
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